Fae of the World
by scifispice80
Summary: Ok, I really suck at summaries, so here goes. Death eaters on a magical scavenger hunt, an enchancted shield, a few objects of power of Faery descent, mixed in with a tie or two to the Aurthurian legends. And the answer to the question, “Who really in
1. The Three Fates

A/N This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. I've put a lot of work into it, so I hope you guys like it. Please let me know if you do. ( Of course, there's always the chance that this is still a Mary Sueish, self-insertionist piece of claptrap. If you think it is, let me know that too. Anything that will help me improve upcoming chapters is appreciated. By the way, I apologize ahead of time for any bastardization of the Arthurian legends and/or Mists of Avalon my warped little brain may have committed. Give me a break; I was biology major, ok? Thanks to my betas, Kate, Kat, Marina, Caitey, Serendipity?, and Riverchick, for their infinite patience and tolerance for my tendency to make the same mistakes over and over again. You guys are great. Ok, I'll shut up now, here's my fic.  
  
Fae of the World Prologue: The Three Fates  
  
Fate certainly had one sick sense of humor. Why was it that those who were least deserving of death were always the first ones to find it? He looked across the graveyard, which was now covered in shadows. Even though it was always neat and well kept, without a single lopsided headstone or withered flower, it was still a place of death. A place where he would rather not be. Especially now and under these circumstances. He looked at the three women standing in front of the headstone, and met the gaze of the eldest as she lifted her eyes from the ground. She was still very beautiful after all this time, though her eyes exuded her true age and wisdom. They also now held a look of overwhelming sadness. The two younger women stood on either side of her, each clasping one of her hands in their own. Standing there, they reminded him of the three fates: past, present and future. But what happens when the fates can't accept fate? Saying nothing, doing nothing, just sharing their common despair. Finally the youngest broke into tears, her shoulders heaving as she tried to control herself. The other young woman moved over to her and hugged her in an attempt at comfort. The first laid her head on her shoulder, and after a while, her tears stopped.  
  
A wife's regret at what might have been. Two daughters' despair over what will never be. These are emotions of the worst kind. It wasn't fair, to them most of all. They hadn't even been able to attend his funeral as it had been too much or a risk. Now they were forced to say goodbye in this hurried manner.  
  
He knew they deserved more time, and would have done nearly anything to give it to them. But they had lingered here for too long already, and he was beginning to become a little paranoid. He walked over to them slowly. "We should go. It isn't safe." All three looked at him with solemn gray eyes and the eldest nodded her head.  
  
"All right, Reyhan. Thank you for coming with us. Come along girls, we must go." As all four of them slipped away from the grave into the shadows, the youngest stopped and looked back again. Her sister put an arm around her again, guiding her away.  
  
"I know, I know," she whispered softly before the graveyard became silent once again. 


	2. This is me

Chapter 1- This is Me  
  
A/N: I used to think that the writers who were like, "My characters are doing this, or want this, or my story is doing this," were crazy. But now, I know they weren't. Lithia decided she wanted to tell this part of the story. Maybe she'll give it to me for the next chapter, who knows? I promise that most of the fic will be told from a neutral point of view, this chapter and the next being acceptions.  
  
There is one summer that I will never forget, as long as I live. We had just finished fourth year final examinations at Durmstrang, and everyone was preparing for their respective trips home. I received an owl from my father telling me that I was to go to Mother's and spend the beginning of the summer with her instead of with him as planned. This was an unexpected change, since I usually spent the first half of the summer break with Father, and the second half with Mother. At first, the letter from my father upset me. I did not like having my routines broken, and I had friends where Father lived who were expecting me. Then I became concerned. Countless thoughts and questions ran through my head. Was something wrong with Mother? Was that why they wanted me there now? Maybe something was wrong with Father and they didn't want me to know?  
  
I even considered the possibility that maybe Father didn't want to see me for some reason, and that he was leaving me with Mother so that he could go about his own business. This last thought was completely irrational, especially because I knew quite well that my mother and father both loved me a great deal. But like many children whose parents were no longer together, a thought always dwelled in the back of my mind. The thought that if they had tired of each other, perhaps they would eventually tire of me as well, and I might never see one, or either, of them again. They probably actually still cared for each other on some level, neither of them ever spoke ill of the other, but they had their.differences.  
  
I immediately sent an owl back to Father, asking him why and when this had been decided, whether something was wrong or had happened, and would he please tell me if it had. The only response I received from him was, "Your mother and I agreed that it would be best for you this summer."  
  
This did nothing but upset me even more. I was no longer a child; I was nearly 15 years old! I was damn well old enough to decide for myself where I wanted to spend the summer holidays, and I sent an owl back saying exactly that. Well not exactly that. What I actually said was much nicer than that. It was more along the lines of, "Please!" and, "But why, Daddy?"  
  
This of course, didn't work, and I promptly received an owl telling that I needn't worry, but that the decision was final, so I needn't even bother responding again. Needless to say, I sulked until I left Durmstrang, and most of the way to Mother's as well. Reyhan picked me up at the train station.  
  
"Very good to see you so early in the summer, Lithia," he said, a big smile spreading across his aged face. Reyhan was my mother's attaché, and had been so since before I was born. He was like another member of the family. Uncle Reyhan, my sister and I sometimes still called him. However, Uncle Reyhan's cheerful mood was not helping to improve mine at all.  
  
"Hello, Reyhan," I said glumly.  
  
"Well, it certainly looks like someone is in a surly mood, and that's Uncle Reyhan to you," he said as the smile on his face broadened even more.  
  
Somehow I could never be mad at Reyhan. My expression softened somewhat. "It's good to see you too, Uncle Reyhan." I said as I hugged him.  
  
"Come along then," he said, as he let go of me. "Let's get your things, we have a portkey to catch."  
  
  
  
I loved my mother's manor. It wasn't dark and gloomy like so many other places in the magical world were. Somehow it seemed to emanate brightness, just like the rest of her homeland. Everything here simply seemed to exude enchantment. Yes, this definitely was my mother's homeland. My father was a wizard, but my mother was a Fae. In case you didn't know, a Fae is a faery, in other words. The general opinion of faeries was that they were tiny little things with sparkly wings. Well, some of us are like that, but most of us are the same size as humans. Though we are not nearly as magical as our smaller kin, we do sometimes have a slight advantage over the rest of the Wizarding world, especially when it comes to wandless magic. We look like most other witches and wizards, aside from the occasional appearance of our wings. Yes, we do have them, but we usually keep them hidden, as they tend to weird non-faery folk out, and we tend to not like making spectacles of ourselves. They can kind of fold in and.ah well, I'll tell about that later. And they don't really have any practical use. It's not like we can fly or anything. The little ones are the only ones who can do that. I think it has something to do with our overall body mass and having wings of a proportional size and strength. Anyway, the point is that we look like most other witches and wizards.  
  
Even though I was trying my best to maintain a foul mood, I forgot all about it as soon as I saw Mother and Tara.  
  
"There you are! Come here and give me a hug, my little one!" Mother still called me her little one, even though I was no longer little nor was I one of the little ones. "Oh, I have missed you so!" she said, hugging me. I loved it when my mother hugged me. She would wrap not only her arms, but her wings around me as well. Mother's wings were tall and wide like a butterfly's, and shone a deep midnight blue. They had fluid, wavy edges that seemed to constantly flow around her. Reyhan's wings had slightly more jagged edges; they were pitch black, and curled to a point at the top. I could definitely see how Reyhan had probably looked very menacing in his younger days. Tara and I had more slender, rounded wings, like a dragonfly's. Tara's were a shimmering purple, something I had always been jealous of, since purple had always been my favorite color. My wings were a silvery gray.  
  
"It's about time you two got here," my sister said as she playfully bumped into me, almost making me lose my balance. Honestly, sometimes my big sister could be so juvenile.  
  
"Come on," Tara said, pulling on my arm, "Let's get you settled in, it's almost lunchtime."  
  
"I have a few council matters to attend to, and then I'll join you both." Mother said, stopping to kiss me on the forehead.  
  
Did I mention that my mother is a queen? No? Okay, well she is.  
  
She was one of the many faery queens who together made a council of elders for our kind; each queen making sure her people's interests and needs were addressed. My mother was head of the council, so she had endless responsibilities. The succession of queens went down the family lines, but this didn't really concern me since Tara was the elder of the two of us. This also meant that I could spend my time here enjoying myself, and not having to worry about any future obligations or duties that I would one day have. Tara was almost always at Mother's side, assisting her with her duties in and out of the council. She served as one of Mother's advisors, which helped prepare her for the day when she would have to take Mother's place. Nevertheless, Mother had made sure that both Tara and I were very familiar with the goings on and procedures of the council. I think she wanted us to be proud of the prominence and influence that our family had gained amongst our people. As a result, I knew almost as much as Tara did about Mother's duties. We had also been raised to always be on our best and most proper behavior, as we were setting an example for the family. This was something that from time to time annoyed me; particularly during the numerous times I had gotten into trouble for behaving as I shouldn't. And it never helped that somehow Tara had always been better behaved than I was.  
  
  
  
The weeks passed quickly at Mother's manor. It was nearly July, and I still hadn't heard from Father. I was becoming more worried with every passing day. Mother was being just as cryptic about his whereabouts as Father had been at the beginning of the summer. I broke the usual cheery conversation at dinner one night.  
  
"Have you heard from Father yet?" I asked, picking at my food.  
  
"I have told you, Lithia, that you will be the first to know as soon as I do. Your father is fine, dear." By the tone in her voice, I could tell that she was not only trying to convince me, but herself as well. I couldn't stand it anymore, and threw my fork across the table in frustration.  
  
"You don't have to patronize me, you know? I can sense that something's going on, and you're obviously keeping it from me. You have been all summer. Now will you stop treating me like a baby and please tell me what's going on!"  
  
Mother looked at me questioningly, and then at Tara, who nodded in agreement. So obviously Tara knew what was going on when I didn't.  
  
Mother sighed and looked at me. "Well, I knew that I could not keep it from you forever. I am actually surprised you lasted this long. It seems that you have developed quite a bit more patience than I gave you credit for. We just wanted you to be able to enjoy your summer without worrying too much."  
  
She paused and I could tell that she was choosing her words carefully. "Lithia, you know that the reason your father and I separated was the war?"  
  
Of course I knew that, how could I have not known? I ran through the story in my head frequently. During the time when Voldemort was in power, the Fae were asked to join the wizards and help fight against him. The council decided against this in order to keep our people out of the line of fire. Voldemort had no specific conflict with the Fae, we usually kept to ourselves as it was, and the war was bloody and brought many losses to both sides. This course of action helped ensure that none of our kind would be harmed as direct result from our involvement. Father had been infuriated by this, and pleaded with Mother and the rest of the council members to change their decision. Mother reconsidered, but the rest of the council did not, outvoting her. She had to stand by the council's decision, so the Fae refrained from involving themselves in the conflict. Father decided he was going to help fight Voldemort with or without Mother and the council behind him. He also knew that if he did this, his presence among the Fae would draw unneeded attention to them, and to us and Mother as well. So he left to fight alongside his family and became an Auror. Even after the war ended, Father couldn't bring himself to forgive Mother for her inaction, so they separated; Tara stayed with Mother, and I stayed with him.  
  
"Yes, I know," I responded quietly. If this whole thing had something to do with Voldemort, I wasn't quite sure that I really wanted to know what was going on anymore.  
  
"Even after the war ended, your father helped keep watch. Gathering information on who Voldemort's supporters were, helping root them out. He has been doing this, keeping a watchful eye out ever since the war. It seems that Voldemort has returned, and your father is once again helping with the cause. He is now helping gather information that may result in Voldemort's ultimate defeat. Voldemort knows this, and is seeking to destroy all those who could help bring him down. He has already recalled his minions to help him. Your father and many of his fellow Aurors are in hiding, spying, sabotaging, and gathering information. Because of this, he is in a great deal of danger. Danger which neither he nor I wish to expose you to. That is why you are here instead of with him, my dear. It is also why you haven't heard from him in quite some time. Owls can be traced, and we didn't want there to be even the slightest possibility that he could lead danger to you."  
  
I was completely speechless, which for me is quite unusual. Not only had Voldemort returned, but my father was once again in the fray, and who knew what else was going on. Now I understood why he had been so adamant about me not coming to stay with him at the beginning of the summer.  
  
My brain finally recovered from the shock enough for me to respond. "But, but then how do you know that he's fine?" I asked as my mind began to panic again, "If you haven't heard from him, then for all you know, he could be dead or captured or, or." Words completely failed me, and I slumped back in my seat in frustration.  
  
Mother spoke in a comforting tone, "In this case, no news is good news. We will only receive word if something has happened, that was the agreement."  
  
"So we're just supposed to wait?" I said in disbelief.  
  
"That is all we can do," mother said simply.  
  
"I'm not hungry anymore," I said as I shoved myself away from the table and trudged my way up to my room.  
  
  
  
Time no longer passed so quickly. Every day without word from Father seemed to drag on to no end. A week went by, and then another, and another. I was sitting on a bench in the middle of the palace gardens. Despite the fact that everything around me was bright and full of life, I couldn't bring myself to appreciate it. Flowers bloomed everywhere, filling the air with their scents. Some of the little ones darted here and there, playing. A few of them tried to get me to join in, tugging on my hair and the edges of my clothes.  
  
"I don't want to play! Stop it!" I spat at them as I angrily shooed them away. They flitted about agitatedly for a minute, and then moved to another part of the garden. I was so consumed in my thoughts, that I didn't notice when one of them came back a few minutes later. She lightly touched down on my knee, holding a white rose out to me.  
  
I sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be nasty earlier. And thank you for the gift, but there's only one thing that would make me feel better right now."  
  
She nodded understandingly, and flew off to rejoin her friends. As I resumed my gloomy contemplations, I saw Tara and Mother walking toward me, both of them looking as grim as I felt.  
  
"We've been looking for you," Tara said as she sat down on the bench beside me.  
  
Mother kneeled down in front of me and took my hands in hers. I looked into her eyes, and even though I knew what she was going to say, I still hoped that she wouldn't.  
  
"We've received word," she said to me gently.  
  
"And?" I asked, tears already beginning to well up in my eyes.  
  
"It's the worst," she whispered.  
  
"No!" I screamed, yanking my hands away from hers, using them to cover my face. Tara pulled me close, looking like she was about to cry as well, as my sobs drowned out the happy sounds of summer.  
  
We couldn't go to his funeral because it was certain that Voldemort would have spies watching, ready to spot and track down any more possible enemies. A few days after the service, we visited his grave to say goodbye. Reyhan insisted that he come with us, and that we go under the cover of night to be less conspicuous. Mother agreed with no hesitation. This was all so unfair. My father was dead, and I couldn't even say goodbye properly. Not only that, but the summer was almost over, and it was nearing time for me to return to school. And school was the last thing on my mind right then. 


	3. New Beginnings

Chapter 2 -New Beginnings  
  
It was decided that since Hogwarts was closer, and because Mother for some reason was convince I would be safe there, I was to transfer there for the rest of my schooling. Of course, I was not too happy about this. All my friends were at Durmstrang, and I was to become a school prefect in my fifth year. Not to mention the fact that I was well on my way to becoming Head Girl in my seventh year. And now I had to go to Hogwarts, where I had no friends, and no reputation built up. My friends and Durmstrang were the only stable things left in my life, and now they were being taken away from me too. But Mother was very adamant, and I knew by then not to argue with her after a certain point. After all, I did get my stubbornness from somewhere, didn't I?  
  
"I know that you are disappointed Lithia, but if you go to Hogwarts, you will be closer to me, and besides that, I have a feeling that you would be a lot safer there."  
  
"Of course you feel that way, Mother! You went to Hogwarts, and so did Tara!" I said as I threw myself down in a chair, close to tears.  
  
At this moment, Tara decided to join the argument, and I was completely outnumbered. "Lithia, how could you even think that?" she snapped at me. "And besides, you know better than to argue with her. The only thing Mother is thinking of is your safety."  
  
"I do, however, have something that may make you feel a bit better," Mother said, seeing that still quite unhappy about the entire situation.  
  
"Oh what now?" I said sarcastically. "Aside from me signing an official death certificate for my life as I know it?"  
  
Mother looked at me somewhat crossly. "Wait here, and you'll see," she said, leaving me to ponder my sullen thoughts. When she came back in, there was a cat in her arms. She had pitch-black fur, except for a white patch under her neck, and streaks above her eyes. The cat's slightly long fur plumed at the end of her body into a shiny, bushy tail, and her eyes gleamed as if two onyx stones had been set there.  
  
"Her name is Nimuwe," Mother said as she gently placed the cat into my lap. "And she's for you. She can be a companion, and a familiar."  
  
"Mother, she's beautiful," I gushed as Nimuwe looked up at me with a knowing gleam in her eye. I stopped and studied the cat's expression carefully. "She's part Kneazle, isn't she?"  
  
Mother smiled at me. "She most certainly is. I thought you would be able to tell. You always have had an affinity for felines."  
  
As I gently stroked Nimuwe's head, I noticed the small charm attached to her collar. It was a gold clover leaf with a tiny diamond embedded in its center.  
  
"This is just like the necklace you always wear, isn't it?"  
  
As if on cue, Mother's hand touched the clover that hung delicately around her neck. "Nearly, my dear. It's a reminder. You can look at it and think of home, and your family."  
  
I almost felt bad making such a fuss earlier. Almost. It was obvious that Mother knew the transition was going to be difficult for me, and was trying to make it slightly easier.  
  
Mother placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It may not be as bad as you think it's going to be, you know. I know this is hard on you, but we are doing what we think would be best for you and the family."  
  
"I know, I know," I said reluctantly as Nimuwe calmly flapped her tail against my legs.  
  
So I resigned myself to spending the next three years of my life at Hogwarts.  
Mother, Tara and I visited Hogwarts just before the term began. Even though I didn't want to be at Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore seemed very nice, so I did my best to be pleasant. He allowed the sorting hat to go ahead and put me in a house, in order to make my adjustment easier. I was put in Slytherin. No surprise there, since it was the house Mother had been in when she was at Hogwarts. Tara had taken after Father and spent her years in Gryffindor.  
  
Mother, Tara, and Reyhan all accompanied me to platform 9 ¾. It was clear that they were still concerned about my safety.  
  
"Be careful," Mother reminded me for the millionth time that day.  
  
"I will, I will," I responded agitatedly. You would think that she would trust me to survive a stupid train ride. She had already instructed me to keep quiet about the specifics of my father's death, as well as the fact that I was a Fae. I was beginning to think that she expected me to go in the first day and shout at the top of my lungs to anyone who would listen, "My father was a spy for the Aurors and died trying to help take down Voldemort! By the way, I have wings! Want to see them?" This is ridiculous, I thought. As if I didn't know how to conduct myself.  
  
My sister let out an exasperated sigh. "She's just worried, Lithia. We all are."  
  
"I know that, but eventually you are going to have to let me get on that train, and you're not going to be able to come with me. And don't worry, I'll be fine."  
  
"Oh, of course you will," Tara said, giving me one last hug goodbye. "Now go on, if we stay here much longer, I think Mother is going to have a nervous breakdown."  
  
I laughed at Tara as I bent down to pick up Nimuwe, and then turned to board the train with my new Hogwarts schoolmates.  
  
I quickly found an empty compartment and settled myself into it. I then proceeded to pass the ride by gazing out the window. The countryside here was beautiful, though I was still partial to my mother's homeland. After thoroughly investigating the compartment, Nimuwe settled herself beside me and proceeded to nap her way through the ride.  
  
"You're new."  
  
I turned my head towards the sound of the voice and saw a girl my age wearing Slytherin robes standing in the doorway. She wore her brown hair in a shoulder length bob, and had slightly sharp features, as well as a somewhat clueless expression on her face.  
  
"And you're in Slytherin, too," she said as she moved to take the seat across from me.  
  
Someone has a knack for stating the obvious.  
  
"Yeah, and so are you, I guess that means we're housemates."  
  
"What year are you?" she asked, beginning her inquiry.  
  
"Fifth."  
  
"So am I. So not only are we housemates, we're roommates."  
  
Oh lovely, I thought.  
  
And so the volley of questions began. "What school are you transferring from? Who's your family? Is that your cat? Ooohh, she's so adorable!" Blah blah blah. I eventually tuned her out, only actually hearing and answering her questions every now and then, and the other times just nodding and smiling. Somehow she seemed not to notice. Either that, or my smiles and nods were very well timed. I had never been so thankful to see another living person as I was when someone stuck their head in the compartment door.  
  
"There you are Pansy. I've been looking all over for you."  
  
The new arrival had strawberry blonde hair and wore Slytherin robes as well.  
  
"Who's this?" she asked, as she paused to look at me.  
  
Before I could even answer Pansy jumped in. "Her name's Lithia, she's new, transferred in from Durmstrang, she's a Slytherin, and she's a fifth year, so she'll be rooming with us."  
  
The girl at the door rolled her eyes.  
  
"And I'm sure that she could have told me all that, Pansy, if you would have shut your mouth for a minute."  
  
I liked this girl already. It seemed that I had met someone who I could actually hold a conversation with and be able to get a word in edgewise.  
  
She looked at me with a slight look of pity. "I bet Pansy has been talking your ears off. She does that."  
  
Pansy did her best to look insulted as the other girl sat down beside her.  
  
"I'm Blaise Zabini."  
  
"Lithia Beryl."  
  
The rest of the trip went pretty uneventfully. I chatted with Pansy and Blaise, who seemed to balance each other out, with Blaise keeping Pansy's spazziness in check. I stuck with them for the sorting of the first years as well, sitting beside them at the Slytherin table.  
  
My mind wandered during the sorting, as I pondered the house descriptions that the sorting hat had given. It seemed that the Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and noble, the Ravenclaws intelligent bookworms, the Slytherins cunning and sly, and Hufflepuffs loyal and hardworking. So far, I had yet to see either slyness or cunning displayed in any of my fellow housemates. Pansy was, well, Pansy. Blaise had a good head on her shoulders, but there was nothing extraordinary about her. Millicent-ugh. Crabbe and Goyle, I am not even going to begin to talk about their shortcomings. Draco Malfoy seemed to be the only exception so far. From what I'd heard, his marks were the second highest in our year, and his family name was well known as well.  
  
And what kind of a way to sort students was an old, tatty hat? The sorting procedure at Durmstrang had been much better. At the front of the main hall at Durmstrang, there was a huge silver bowl with ornate carvings on it. All the first years lined up in front of the bowl, and clear quartz stones would appear in it, one for each student to be sorted. Each first year would then take a stone from the bowl. When all the stones had been distributed, each student's stone would glow a particular color, according to which house they were to be in. A deep navy blue for Felidae, house of the panther, a rich earthy brown for Danube, house of the stallion, or a vibrant orange for Aquila, house of the eagle. I had been in Felidae, wearing our colors of navy and white proudly. Now I had to do the same with Slytherin's green and silver. I was determined not to be "the new girl." If I had to be here, then by Merlin, I was going to make my mark on Hogwarts.  
  
It seemed that the Quidditch players here were held in high regard, so I decided to try out for the house team. Tara and I had spent so much time chasing and playing with the little ones that seeking was a snap for me. I used to zoom through the woods and gardens on my broom playing chase and tag with them. I had also been very good at keep away. To me, it was easier to keep a ball away from a full sized person than from a flock of small faeries. They were very good at teamwork, and could do almost anything when they banded together. Not to mention that one or two of them tended to separate from the group to taunt you and try to distract you from what you were doing. This also made me an excellent chaser, and since Draco Malfoy had already set himself in the position of the team's seeker, I was made a chaser. 


End file.
